


Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing

by ConesOfDunshire



Series: Marvin Gaye [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8150971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConesOfDunshire/pseuds/ConesOfDunshire
Summary: Kuroo wasn't supposed to see that picture. He really wasn't supposed to be intruding on his best friends' sex lives. And he definitely wasn't supposed to enjoy it.





	1. Chapter 1

It began, as most things often did when it came to Bokuto, with him losing his cell phone.

It was how he and Kuroo became friends in the first place, Bokuto crawling around on his hands and knees in the bathroom their first year at the summer training camp in high school and Kuroo pointing out how many germs he was collecting with every second spent on that floor. Throughout their years of friendship, they’d been forced to return to long-over parties, to restaurants and bars after closing time, and once to a locker room where the Japanese national team had already taken over.

All because Bokuto didn’t know how to keep track of his cell phone.

And today, it was how Kuroo found himself rooting around in their messy living room looking for said cell phone.

Okay, so maybe today it was kind of, sort of, maybe just a little bit his fault. Kuroo was the human pack rat who left the apartment in a perpetual state of chaos, after all. It was his mess that had swallowed up Bokuto’s phone, and it was why he was digging through the mound of old laundry he’d been meaning to take to the Laundromat for the last week and a half.

He could hear footsteps behind him, a large body looming over him and blocking out the light.

“Did you find it?” Kuroo asked, peering over his shoulder.

Judging by the pout on Bokuto’s face, that would be a no. Kuroo huffed and resumed his sifting.

“We’re never gonna find it, we should just give up now,” Bokuto mumbled.

“You say that every time you lose your phone,” Kuroo countered.

“Yeah, but this time I know it’s lost forever.”

“We’ve been looking for five minutes.”

Bokuto sighed dramatically, and Kuroo knew he was probably rolling his eyes too. They’d never given up their search before, and Kuroo wasn’t prepared to do it now. He remembered seeing Bokuto with it in the apartment when he came back from class, so it had to be here.

“If I’m looking, you better be looking,” Kuroo warned, reaching deeper into Mount Laundry.

“Why are you even looking out here?” Bokuto asked, his voice growing distant as he wandered back down the hallway. “I told you I had it in my room when I was texting Akaashi.”

Kuroo grimaced as he wrapped his hand around something distinctly slimy. “I’ve found your phone in the refrigerator before. I’m not limiting my options.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Bokuto scoffed.

“And remember when I found it inside your boots?”

“I said whatever!”

Kuroo sniggered as he withdrew his hand from the pile, wiping the mysterious slime on a shirt. He stood up, hands braced on his hips, and looked around the living room. Cleaning up the mess would probably be a more surefire way of locating the phone, but he was too stubborn for that. Instead, he turned his attention to the overflowing miniature garbage can in the corner. Akaashi had left it there the last time he was there, claiming that “If the kitchen proved too far to walk his useless legs there and throw something away,” then this would be a suitable alternative. And it definitely had been, at least for the day it had taken him to fill it up. But now, like most things in the apartment, it had quickly gotten out of control and turned into yet another pile for Akaashi to complain about the next time he came over.

“Bo! Grab my phone and call yours!” Kuroo called as he started pushing the garbage around, searching for the floor beneath it.

“It’s not gonna do anything!” Bokuto’s voice roared back. “It’s on silent!”

“Maybe I’ll see it light up,” Kuroo reasoned.

There was a pause, then Bokuto’s heavy footsteps as he stomped from his bedroom to Kuroo’s. If it was anyone else going into his room, Kuroo knew he’d hear a shout of horror or—as was the case with Akaashi—sharp reprimands when they opened the door. But not from Bokuto. He was the only person who couldn’t give half a shit what the apartment looked like.

Kuroo could hear more stomping, then a pause—probably Bokuto finding the phone where Kuroo had left it on his side table. Messy though the rest of his life might be, he always knew where his phone was. The complete opposite of Bokuto.

Abandoning the garbage, Kuroo stood up and began scanning the room, like God might open a hole in the ceiling and shine a light down upon the lost phone. But that was just wishful thinking. The room was silent and lighted only by the lamp in the corner. The ceiling remained intact.

“Did it work?” Bokuto yelled.

“Just… Keep calling it,” Kuroo replied.

“I’m telling you, it’s not out there. It’s lost forever. A black hole sucked it up and now it’s hanging out with space rocks and space garbage and Uranus, and the aliens are gonna use up all my data and then my dad’s gonna get mad and I’ll have to sell my body to pay for—“

“Bo, call the damn phone,” Kuroo cut him off.

Bokuto went silent, and Kuroo resumed his search, tossing around empty pizza boxes, upending the furniture, turning the room into even more of a mess. Now panting and sweating, Kuroo stood up to his full height once more. It clearly wasn’t in the living room. Even knowing full well the crazy places Bokuto had left his phone, Kuroo knew it wasn’t in here. Where else could Bokuto have taken it? Kuroo had seen him on his bed texting Akaashi, then heard him come out into the living room for something, and then…

Bathroom.

He’d spent a good half an hour in there and left a horrendous odor in his wake. And Kuroo knew he wasn’t just sitting there twiddling his thumbs the entire time.

Kuroo abandoned the giant mess he’d made and headed through the kitchen to the bathroom. He pushed open the door, and before even turning on the light, he could see a dim glow from inside the bathtub. Peering inside, he was met with his own picture, face contorted into a ridiculous expression and middle finger flipping himself off. Why Bokuto had chosen that for the contact photo was beyond him.

Kuroo pulled the phone out of the empty bathtub, and then the screen went dark. Bokuto had probably—hopefully—set it on the lip of the tub when he went to wash his hands. The screen began to glow once more, the same hideous picture of Kuroo flipping off the camera lighting up the room. “Hey, I found it!” he called. A second later, the phone went dark again.

Bokuto’s voice was floating through the walls, but Kuroo couldn’t understand what he was saying. “I’m in the bathroom, I got it, I—Bo, I said I got it, stop calling!”

The phone was glowing again, and he held it up, prepared to be greeted with his own hideous face, to answer and tell Bokuto to come get his phone, maybe keep it on a lanyard or sew it to his damn hand or at least not leave it on silent anymore.

But none of that happened. Because he wasn’t greeted with his own hideous face. Because it wasn’t Bokuto calling.

It was Akaashi. Akaashi’s name on the screen, Akaashi’s phone number beneath it, and Akaashi’s picture lighting up the room.

Kuroo couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t hear a thing except his heartbeat hammering in his chest. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Maybe he’d just imagined it. Maybe he didn’t really—

“Oh shit, I forgot I left it in here!”

Kuroo almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Bokuto’s voice. Without a word, he shoved the phone vaguely in Bokuto’s direction, forcing a laugh. Why was he laughing? What was funny? Certainly not this.

“Thanks, I was worried I was gonna have to become a drifter,” Bokuto sighed, grabbing the phone and tapping the screen.

Kuroo didn’t know what to say, so he just laughed again. It was high and strained and not at all like his normal bark of a laugh. Thankfully, Bokuto was too engrossed in his phone to notice. His thick eyebrows came together, and he poked his tongue out from between his teeth—his classic concentration face.

Kuroo was contemplating his escape, trying to figure out if he could squeeze past Bokuto without disturbing him, when suddenly the phone was being thrust back at him. His first reaction was to shove it away.

“No, I need you to put it somewhere so it doesn’t get lost. I gotta shower,” Bokuto explained, pushing the phone forward once more.

Kuroo tried to reel in his horrified expression, but evidently he didn’t do a very good job of it. Bokuto just looked confused, pushing the phone toward his hands. “Seriously, I gotta hurry!”

He was already shimmying out of his shorts, and Kuroo knew he wasn’t really being given a choice in the matter. Bokuto would be getting naked whether or not he took the phone. He snatched it from Bokuto’s hands just as the boxers were dropping and fled before getting a glimpse of the full Monty, closing the door behind him.

The best decision would’ve been to just set the phone down on the counter, leave it there for Bokuto to find when he got out of the shower, and head for the safety of his bedroom. It was the smart thing to do, the best thing to do for his own health and sanity and general well being. He even set it down and took a few steps toward the doorway.

But each one was more difficult than the last, and before he realized it, he was walking back and picking the phone up again.

This was bad. This was very bad. He had to stop. He’d never invaded Bokuto’s privacy like this. Of course they’d shared an apartment for a few years, so he knew a lot of things most people didn’t about their best friends. But this was different. He’d never done something like this without Bokuto watching.

And still, his fingers were already unlocking the screen, tapping through the pages, finding the contacts. He clicked on Akaashi’s name with shaking fingers and tapped the image next to the contact info. The picture opened, and Kuroo almost dropped the phone.

Because it wasn’t just Akaashi. It was Akaashi in lingerie.

And it wasn’t just Akaashi in lingerie. It was Akaashi in Kuroo’s favorite lingerie.

Kuroo stared hard at the picture, at every inch of Akaashi. Fingers raking through the dark curls. Lidded green eyes staring at the camera with a “fuck me” expression. The other fingers sliding against his collarbone. Burgundy nylon stretched over his chest, with the lace trim holding it up. Hip cocked, pelvis thrust toward the camera. Panties that matched the bra with the garters and the stockings…

Just like in the magazine.

Sure, there were some differences. Akaashi wasn’t a sexy blonde with curvaceous hips and enormous tits. He didn’t wear the lingerie quite the same—with his flat chest and his cock barely fitting inside the nylon of the underwear. The lace along the edges wasn’t rose trimmed. And yeah, maybe the familiar backdrop of Bokuto’s dimly-lit bedroom changed the overall effect.

The bigger question weighing on Kuroo’s mind was _how the fuck did Akaashi get his hands on the magazine_. There was no doubt that he’d seen it. This wasn’t a horrifying coincidence. The outfit and the pose and the bedroom eyes were too exact for it to be anything but an imitation.

Kuroo shook his head rapidly, trying to return to reality. This was ridiculous. Even if Akaashi did see the magazine, it wasn’t any of his business. Who cares what Akaashi and Bokuto got up to in their own time? Yeah, Kuroo had listened to his fair share of it. They weren’t exactly subtle in the bedroom. But it still wasn’t any of his business.

Even if the burgundy really made Akaashi’s eyes look greener than he’d ever seen them.

He wasn’t prepared for the phone to vibrate, and he dropped it to the counter with a loud clatter and a hissed “Fuck!”

He didn’t want to look at it, knew exactly who it was. But he couldn’t just leave the phone on the sexy picture of Akaashi. Even if he wasn’t always the most observant guy, Bokuto would notice and he’d wonder why the picture was up and fuck did Kuroo just call Akaashi sexy?

But Kuroo could hear the water shut off in the bathroom and shuffling from outside the front door, so there was no time to ponder the significance of that thought. Quick as he could, he backed all the way out of the contacts menu and back to the main screen, then clicked Bokuto’s phone back to sleep. And just in time too, as the bathroom door opened to reveal a dripping wet Bokuto clad only in a towel.

“Were… Were you waiting for me?” Bokuto asked as his eyes fell on Kuroo.

It was a reasonable question. Kuroo was still standing just outside the bathroom door, blocking Bokuto’s path through their tiny kitchen. It certainly _looked_ like Kuroo had been waiting for him.

Kuroo swallowed hard, did his best to maintain his usual cool façade—even though inside all he could hear in his head was a long, loud scream. “C’mon, nothing beats that view,” he said with as much cheek as he could muster.

It worked. Bokuto struck a pose, held up the arm he wasn’t using to hold his towel and flexed. The water glistened against the hard cords of muscle. He grinned at Kuroo, flashing his teeth. He even purred. “You like what you see?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Kuroo nodded. “I mean it’s the only reason I wanted to move in with you.”

“Psh, pervert,” Bokuto scoffed.

The scrape of a key in the lock was faint, but Bokuto heard it and perked up immediately. He flashed Kuroo another grin and shunted past, heading out into the living room.

Kuroo tried to take a deep breath. He needed his heart rate to slow down. And really, he didn’t want to go into that room. He could hear the hum of conversation, no different from usual. It was the only way to get back to the safety of his room. But he _really_ didn’t want to go in there.

Akaashi was in there, and Kuroo knew that when he saw Akaashi, he would think of the lingerie. And thinking of the lingerie was dangerous. He didn’t want to think about it at all—let alone in front of Akaashi himself.

He was just starting to wonder if maybe he could build a fort out of their sparse kitchenware and live off of the old take-out in the fridge when he heard Bokuto ask rather loudly, _“Crap, where’s my phone?”_

Kuroo knew where this was heading. Bokuto would ask Akaashi to call it since the volume was up now. It would ring. Loudly. And Kuroo wouldn’t be able to make his escape from the kitchen without them knowing that he’d seen exactly what was on the screen. Kuroo _definitely_ wouldn’t be able to lie about it, skilled though he liked to believe he was. And it would be uncomfortable for all parties involved. He had to head it off at the pass.

So, without giving himself time to think about it, he snatched the phone off the counter and made his way out into the living room.

The first thing he was met with was Akaashi’s piercing gaze. And damn it, his eyes really were green. Definitely not as lidded as they were in the picture, but they still—

_Stop thinking about it._

“Did I hear the call for a missing phone?” Kuroo asked, holding up the phone for them both to see.

Bokuto narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he plucked the phone from Kuroo’s hand. “You know,” he said slowly, “I think you might actually be hiding it from me on purpose.”

“Do you not remember asking me to put it somewhere so it didn’t get lost? I put it on the counter but you forgot it again, ya dork,” Kuroo said. Hopefully that had covered all the bases. No, he hadn’t hid it from Bokuto. No, he hadn’t seen Akaashi’s text. No, he hadn’t been ogling the picture of Akaashi in that sexy little—

_Stop. Thinking. About. It._

“I’m surprised you would trust Kuroo-san to hold on to it for you,” Akaashi noted idly. “Lest it become part of this garbage heap forever.”

“Hey, I take care of other people’s stuff just fine,” Kuroo argued.

Akaashi raised a perfectly arched brow. “If that’s the case, then perhaps you might learn to treat your own belongings with equal care. Considering you are not the only tenant in this building, let alone in this apartment.”

Kuroo grinned at Akaashi’s attitude. He’d always found it entertaining. People tended not to challenge him the way Akaashi did. “You know, the other tenant in this apartment doesn’t seem to have any problem with our upkeep system,” he said.

“Your upkeep system is me,” Akaashi corrected him. “This apartment would be uninhabitable if I didn’t clean it at least once a week.”

“And you do a super job of it.”

Bokuto was watching the whole thing like a tennis match, eyes bouncing from person to person. He always begged them not to fight, but it wasn’t _really_ fighting. They just enjoyed a little mutual give and take. Akaashi was always nice to Bokuto, and Kuroo knew that deep down he enjoyed being a little mean. Kuroo was fine with being his plaything sometimes. Especially if he was wearing that—

_STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!_

“So, we were gonna watch a movie,” Bokuto said hesitantly, cutting through the tension. “Wanna watch with us?”

“Oh, uh, thanks but I’m just gonna go to my room,” Kuroo waved him off. “I’m not feeling too hot.”

“What?!” Bokuto squawked.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. Bokuto didn’t like when other people were sick. “I’m fine, I think I’m just tired,” he reasoned.

“Do you have a cold?” Bokuto asked, stepping forward a pressing his free hand to Kuroo’s forehead.

“Perhaps there’s finally mold growing in that waste receptacle you call a bedroom,” Akaashi deadpanned. “I imagine you’ve cultured a few new strains of bacteria under all the garbage.”

“Well, I can’t leave my microbe babies for too long, they need to be fed and changed and put to bed,” Kuroo quipped, already heading for his room. “But enjoy your movie.”

“Okay, fine, but let me know if you need something!” Bokuto called after him.

Kuroo just raised a hand in silent acknowledgment, retreating finally to the safety of his waste receptacle and closing the door behind him.

The mess was comforting in a way. Kuroo had always been messy. It drove his mom crazy, and Kenma refused to come over to his house to hang out when they were in high school. But to Kuroo, it wasn’t the chaos that everyone else saw. He knew where everything was. It wasn’t difficult to keep track of his own phone or his homework or his books. Every pile had its own specific purpose. And people who didn’t like that could deal with it—or, in Akaashi’s case, clean it up himself.

There was a collection of volleyball gear on his bed, and he shoved it to the floor to sprawl diagonally across the mattress. He hadn’t lied to Bokuto, he actually was tired. Maybe he’d manage to fall asleep early. He could even start on his homework in the morning. There was a first time for everything, right?

Or maybe he would spend the next five hours dicking around on his computer and wake up at noon tomorrow. Kenma _had_ messaged him the other day about a game he would like. With a groan, he reached under his bed and unearthed his laptop, opening it up and starting the download.

He’d made it about an hour into the game—Kenma was right, it was pretty good—when Kuroo realized something was up. It was relatively quiet, which in itself was unnerving. He’d been unconsciously aware of the horror movie that Akaashi and Bokuto were watching out in the living room—or at least that Akaashi was watching, while Bokuto probably hid his face in a pillow. But the movie had stopped. Kuroo couldn’t hear anything but the almost inaudible theme music from his game issuing from the speakers of his computer.

Could they have left? Maybe the movie was boring, or maybe Bokuto had gotten too scared. They might have decided to go out to dinner or run an errand together or something. Usually they’d give him a heads up but, but who knows, maybe they were in a hurry.

A loud growl from his stomach had Kuroo lurching to his feet. He would head to the kitchen for one of those boxes of takeout from the fridge, crawl back into bed, and play the game until his eyes hurt. He’d just cracked open his door, barely more than an inch, when he heard it.

A moan.

“For the love of fuck,” Kuroo whispered.

It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d heard them have sex. They’d been together since before he and Bokuto got the apartment together, they were well acquainted with each other’s bodies by then. He had been surprised to learn that Akaashi was the loud one, and now was no exception. He’d never really paid any attention to it, always just put on his headphones and did his best to ignore it.

But all that had been before the lingerie.

Another moan slunk down the hallway, and Kuroo felt a tremor crawl up his spine. It was definitely Akaashi’s moan, higher than Bokuto’s and with a little lilt on the end, like it was surprised out of him.

_“You like that?”_

Ah, there was Bokuto, his voice low and gravelly. If Kuroo’s door were still closed, he wouldn’t have heard the words. But he could hear them now.

_“D… Do it again…”_

Akaashi’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Kuroo really had to strain to hear it.

_“Yeah? Like… That?”_

_“Ah! Yeah… Just… More…”_

_“I didn’t think you’d like it, remember when I tried it that one time with the vibrator?”_

_“Your tongue is a decidedly different exp—ahh, god, like that!”_

_“Hyu ik ah?”_

_“Yes, I like it, but don’t talk while you—AH! Shit…”_

Kuroo swallowed hard, but it proved to be a difficult experience with how dry his mouth was. His hand was clenching hard around the doorknob and his knuckles had turned white. Was he shaking? Was that his heart pounding out of control? Did it feel stuffy in here? Why was he hard as a rock?

“Fuck,” he sighed.

It never used to be a difficult decision to just put on his headphones and block them out. And he’d definitely never listened long enough to get a hard-on from it. He had to stop it now before it got out of hand.

Though he wouldn’t be getting anything done until he dealt with the issue below the belt.

He had one tried and true method of dealing with his problem. Usually he didn’t have to contend with two of his friends fucking in the next room, but there were ways around that. Another good use for the headphones.

Leaving the door ajar, Kuroo returned to his bed and pulled down the headphones that were hanging from his bedpost. The game was minimized, and instead he opened up a browser, tapped a few keys, and parked at a porn site. He wasn’t feeling picky, anything to drown out the sounds of the couple who were now making some very wet smacking sounds. Selecting the first video that didn’t look completely fake, he plugged in the headphones and slipped them over his head. Then, he reached beneath his mattress and extracted the object of his affection.

The magazine.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d owned it, but it had been a couple years now. He’d been drawn in by the title, because he in fact could never pick just one. And then there was the woman.

Annaleise.

Alright, so that probably _wasn’t_ her actual name. But Kuroo needed something to call her in his fantasies, and Annaleise was nice to imagine grunting into her skin, so it stuck. She graced the cover, along with a man who Kuroo wasn’t exactly sold on. He barely looked at the guy anyway, not with Annaleise so prominently displayed in her little skirt and halter-top.

That wasn’t the outfit he cared about though. As the sounds of the video began playing through the headphones, he flicked through the first few pages of the magazine without even looking at them. It dropped open to the desired page easily enough—he’d opened to it enough to put a permanent crease in the pages. The corner was even ripping.

And there she was, in all her burgundy-clad glory. His beautiful, bodacious Annaleise. Her breasts were practically bursting out of the bra, and he could see the nipple outline through the nylon. He trailed his eyes down to the panties that fit around her hips in just the right way. A well-timed moan through the headphones went straight to Kuroo’s cock, and he realized he’d ignored his little problem long enough.

Toggling his laptop and the magazine, Kuroo struggled out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off once they were at his ankles. His hand wandered down and wrapped around his dripping cock without any preamble. He hissed at the sensation, but didn’t back off. The pace was slow at first, but soon his hand was working his cock up and down, and his eyes closed to begin the fantasy.

Tonight, Annaleise was in front of him on all fours, arching her back and rolling her hips forward. She was panting already, her face red and flushed as she looked over her shoulder at Kuroo. Kiss-swollen lips opened, and her quiet purr of “Fuck me” made Kuroo’s head spin.

He didn’t like to leave Annaleise waiting, so with his cock in hand, Kuroo eased himself inside of her. He liked the way she moaned, and as he began a quick rhythm, her moans only grew louder. The slap of skin against skin echoed through the room as he moved faster, deeper, harder, trying to lose himself in her.

And oh, she was insatiable, his Annaleise. It was never enough. No matter how much Kuroo gave her, she always wanted more. Always begging for more of Kuroo.

Her moans were getting louder, and now she was begging for Kuroo to pull her hair. Letting go of her hip, he carded his fingers through her hair, gripping hard tugging at the short, dark curls.

Short… Dark…

No, that wasn’t right. Annaleise was a blonde, and her hair was long. This wasn’t Annaleise anymore. She wasn’t this skinny either, and her hips were fuller. He could see each individual bump of her spine. The hand that was still gripping her other hip was digging into the bone. Her head turned back to him again, and the eyes weren’t blue.

They were green.

And when those kiss-bitten lips opened, another purr of “Fuck me” tumbling from them, it wasn’t the high voice he was so used to. This voice was much lower.

Akaashi’s voice.

He wasn’t fucking Annaleise anymore. He was fucking Akaashi.

Kuroo’s eyes snapped open. He ripped the headphones off his head and shoved them along with the laptop across the bed. He could still hear the quiet sounds of the man and woman coming from his headphone, so he slammed the mute button. The magazine was lying open beside him, Annaleise in all her buxomous glory staring up at him with her sultry blue-eyed gaze. But even that was making him feel guilty, and he shoved the magazine away from himself too.

And just as quickly, he wished he’d stayed securely in his own imagination.

The sounds issuing from the living room had progressed beyond foreplay. Akaashi’s choked cries seemed to be echoing whatever pace Bokuto had set—at least if the rhythmic creak of the couch springs was anything to go by.

And then there was Bokuto. He wasn’t loud—Kuroo had always assumed he’d be a yeller. But he actually sounded a lot more… Animalistic. He was grunting in time with Akaashi’s cries, and Kuroo could hear the quiet rumble of his voice. He’d never heard Bokuto sound like that, so raw and powerful. When he heard the feral growl of _“So fucking tight,”_ it sent a tremor down his spine and straight to his cock.

Well… That was something new.

His hand was already traveling down his abdomen before he realized what was happening. All his warnings that this was a bad idea, that he needed to stop listening, that he should put the headphones back on and listen to literally anything else—he was ignoring all of them. And when Akaashi let out the most strangled whimper yet, Kuroo knew he wouldn’t be able to stop.

He closed his eyes again, closing his fingers around the base of his cock. It was terrifyingly easy to reconjure the image of Akaashi on his hands and knees clad in the skimpy lace panties and bra. Akaashi threw his head back and moaned, the familiar voice uttering that same command of _“Fuck me”_ in a low tone.

And Kuroo was happy to comply, his hand falling into rhythm with the pace he could hear from the living room. His own thrusts were the ones making Akaashi keen, and he was quickly losing himself in just how good it felt.

_“You like that?”_

Bokuto’s growl seemed to envelop Kuroo, like the words had been whispered in his own ear. Like Bokuto’s lips were close enough to touch him. To press a kiss to the back of his neck. To wrap those strong, sexy arms around him. If Kuroo focused hard enough, he could almost feel them.

His hand stuttered, thoughts refocusing in a dizzy haze. Since when did he think Bokuto’s arms were sexy? Okay, maybe he’d always objectively considered Bokuto attractive. The owl horns were a little much, but yeah, he was a good-looking guy. So what was wrong with him now that all he could picture was Bokuto’s fingers digging into his hips and dragging him back for friction? Arms that were covered in droplets of water, trailing down over hard muscle and giving Kuroo the unrelenting urge to lick them up…

“Fuck,” Kuroo groaned, his hand beginning to work up and down his shaft once more.

_“You feel so good…”_

Kuroo knew the words weren’t for him, but pressing his eyes shut, he could pretend they were. He could practically feel Bokuto’s firm body behind him, pulling him close. Sliding two fingers from his free hand between his lips, he imagined they were Bokuto’s. And when those fingers slid between his legs and pressed against his twitching hole, he could let himself believe it was Bokuto’s cock, pushing past the protesting ring of muscle and sheathing inside him.

_“God you’re so fucking tight…”_

And he really was tight, fingers barely fitting inside himself. It had been too long since he’d fingered himself, and the spit probably wasn’t enough. But when another high, keening moan made its way down the hall, Kuroo returned to the fantasy, where he was buried inside Akaashi and Bokuto was buried inside him.

“Christ,” Kuroo gasped as his fingers curled against his prostate. He was so close already, and judging by Akaashi’s hiccupping shouts, he wasn’t the only one.

_“Yeah, you gonna cum? Do it, cum.”_

Bokuto’s command wrapped around Kuroo like a security blanket, like those dripping wet, nicely muscled arms circling around him. And Kuroo felt himself hurtling over the edge. His hands were erratic, falling out of rhythm with the duo on the other side of the wall.

And just as he reached that perfect moment, his fingers pressing against his prostate, the hand around his cock working out of control, he heard Akaashi shout, _“Koutarou!”_

He hoped that they were lost enough in their own pleasure not to hear his mirrored grunt of _“Koutarou,”_ and then _“Keiji”_ as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spattering against his stomach.

It took him more than a minute to recover from the aftershock, pleasure coursing through him in waves. Never had an orgasm left him so completely spent. He could hear the action dying down in the living room too, the pants and residual whimpers the only sounds in the apartment.

Kuroo wasn’t sure how much time passed. But as his faculties returned to him, as he stared down at the cooling cum on his stomach, there was only one word that made its way to his lips. The only thought in his head. The only thing that felt right in the moment.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come yell at me about these nerds on [Tumblr](http://thewiselearnfromhistory.tumblr.com)!


	2. Chapter 2

“So Akaashi thinks you don’t like him.”

Kuroo was sitting on the couch, that same place he’d been parked at for the past six hours watching tv and eating his way through a bag of cheap, old candy he found in the cabinet above the fridge. The perfect Saturday morning in his opinion. But now Bokuto was leaned over him, elbows resting on the back of the couch and pulling his attention from the tv.

“If he wants me to change the channel, he can just ask,” Kuroo scoffed.

“No, he’s not even here, he left like an hour ago,” Bokuto said. “He walked right past you!”

Kuroo shrugged, unwrapping a hard tootsie roll and popping it into his mouth. “I fell asleep for a while. This show’s so dumb, I don’t even know why I’m watching it.”

“Oh my god,” Bokuto laughed. “Don’t even try to pretend you aren’t into Storage Wars.”

“I’m not!”

Bokuto rolled his eyes as he crawled over the back of the couch, settling at the opposite end. “I’ll bet you can tell me what every single locker went for in the last episode.”

“Okay, I can still know that _and_ be bored,” Kuroo argued, throwing a tootsie roll at Bokuto.

Bokuto just unwrapped the candy and tossed it into his mouth. “You’ve been watching it since you woke up this morning. You’re not bored. And you weren’t sleeping.”

Kuroo didn’t answer on the pretense of stuffing more candy into his mouth. He really didn’t _want_ to answer, and he wished Bokuto would stop looking at him with those stupid curious eyes that made him feel so immensely guilty.

Because honestly, he hadn’t been sleeping when he heard Akaashi’s gentle footsteps down the hall. He’d closed his eyes, shifted noiselessly into what he hoped was a convincing napping position, and steadied his breathing. It was obvious when Akaashi had stopped to watch him. Kuroo could practically feel those green eyes boring holes through his head. Still, he had waited. And when a sufficiently uncomfortable amount of time had passed, Akaashi had slid on his shoes and walked out the door.

If he’d been given a little more time, he would’ve run out the door to avoid Akaashi entirely. That had been his preferred method of avoidance for the last few weeks. There was always an excuse—work, extra study sessions, a couple of dates. Bokuto, it seemed, was always convinced.

Too bad Akaashi wasn’t.

Kuroo swallowed the tootsie roll after chewing it for far longer than necessary, pretending he couldn’t see Bokuto staring at him in his periphery. “I don’t hate Akaashi. Why would I hate Akaashi?”

“I dunno,” Bokuto said. “Akaashi says you’re acting weird. Like you’re ignoring him.”

Kuroo shrugged, doing his best to seem nonchalant. “Nah, I’ve just been busy lately.”

“He said you’d say that. But you never used to run away from him like you’ve been doing. He said you won’t talk to him anymore. Or look at him.”

Damn. Akaashi was way too observant. Kuroo thought he was being subtle enough, but not for Akaashi the King of Percipience. Bokuto was still watching him, so Kuroo did his best to feign confusion. “Honestly, I like Akaashi fine. I’ve seriously just been busy lately.”

Bokuto still wasn’t buying it. Maybe Akaashi was starting to rub off on him. He slid across the cushion a little closer to Kuroo.

Kuroo definitely didn’t mean to recoil, totally wasn’t thinking when he leapt off the couch and took a step backwards. Bokuto might miss subtleties, but he was observant enough to catch that. His eyebrows rose in silent surprise.

“Sorry,” Kuroo huffed, trying to think on his feet. He shook out his leg for good measure. “Cramp. Seriously, I’m good. I gotta get ready for work, so… I’m just… Yeah.”

He didn’t even finish, tapering off as he turned away and hastened down the hall and into the safety of his bedroom. Away from Bokuto’s enormous eyes and his questioning eyebrows and his slick, parted lips and his beefy arms that were almost busting out of that t-shirt…

Yeah, that wasn’t helping anything.

Neither was his hard on.

As soon as his bedroom door was closed behind him, Kuroo shoved his hand into his sweatpants, wrapping his fingers around his cock. It was the last thing in the world he wanted to do, but it was also the only way to deal with it. He didn’t take it slow, just gritted his teeth and tried not to savor the feeling. Nothing enjoyable about it. It was just nature. This needed to be gone as fast as possible. He tried to make his mind a blank void for the release he knew was coming. Deft fingers worked himself to the edge. And then…

_“Kuroo, come on, just tell me what’s wrong.”_

The sound of Bokuto’s voice just outside his door was the only thing in Kuroo’s head as he came hard, leaving a mess in his boxers and the lingering urge to fling himself out the window.

_“Kuroo… Did I do something?”_

Kuroo tossed his head back against the door. He took a deep breath. “No, Bo, I’m fine, seriously,” he managed.

_“Okay, just… Just tell me if I did, okay?”_

“I will, for sure.” Kuroo knew his voice was pinched. There was no way Bokuto would buy this…

_“Okay, cool. You want lunch before work?”_

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

It was enough, thank god, and Kuroo could hear Bokuto’s heavy footsteps disappearing down the hallway and heading for the kitchen, leaving him to his cum-stained shorts and immense feelings of guilt that threatened to swallow him whole.

Since the night of the lingerie photo, Kuroo had gotten off to the thought of Bokuto or Akaashi more often than he would ever admit. The first few days, he still tried to keep to his darling Annaleise, picturing her spread out before him in all her bodacious glory. But no matter what he did, Annaleise’s long blonde hair always turned short and black, her body slimming and her voice dropping to Akaashi’s sultry purr. And Bokuto always followed, the muscular arms and strong hands making Kuroo turn into a puddle of mush, rutting desperately against his mattress and murmuring their names into his pillow.

Once Annaleise proved to be unsuccessful, Kuroo thought maybe he was just in need of some new material. He’d gone out and bought some new magazines, scoured the Internet for some prime material. And still, nothing worked. The people in the magazines always morphed into one of them—Akaashi on his knees fingering himself, or Bokuto spread eagle on a couch with his hand wrapped around his cock. It didn’t matter who the starter material was. The end result was either Bokuto or Akaashi—or, on the more pitiful nights, both of them.

Ultimately, the best thing for Kuroo to do when his soldier stood at attention was to get it over with as fast as he could and by keeping his mind as blank as possible. It had about a 50% success rate—with today’s latest venture being an utter failure. Just the sound of Bokuto’s voice and he was a goner.

He was so, so fucked.

 

* * *

 

He’d taken on extra shifts at the convenience store to keep himself away from the apartment, though unfortunately that meant evenings stocking shelves and dealing with the ancient old woman who owned the store alternating between yelling at him and trying to set him up with her 42-year old daughter. Thankfully, she would head up to her little apartment when the store finally slowed down for the night, leaving Kuroo to wile away the time until his reliever came in at 10:00.

Normally, Kuroo spent the last hour or so of his shift fighting off sleep. But tonight, when the front doors slid open at 9:08, he was completely awake. Awake, and staring at a very irritated Akaashi.

It was the first time since the phone incident that Kuroo had looked at Akaashi properly, having gone to great lengths to avoid the beautiful boy with the piercing eyes. God, he looked so good even when he was pissed.

Kuroo leaned forward on the counter, propped up by his forearms against the rough wood grain. A lazy grin graced his lips, and he hoped his efforts at feigning disinterest were at least mildly successful. “Welcome,” he said.

“Mhm.”

Akaashi’s frustration was written in his body language—stiff shoulders, furrowed brow, the light stomp in his walk as he approached the counter. Kuroo almost recoiled on instinct, barely managing to hold his ground as Akaashi stopped inches in front of him.

“Something I can help you with?” Kuroo asked. “You had a study session, right? Let’s see, a late night snack? Energy shot, maybe?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Akaashi said pointedly.

It was even harder for Kuroo not to pull back now. Akaashi’s words were like punches and left little room for argument. Still, Kuroo had to give it the old college try. “I resent that. I had to pick up extra shifts here.”

“Every night?” Akaashi countered.

“Well, the other nights are reserved for social outings,” Kuroo replied, his grin turning mischievous. “I can’t help it if I exude an animal magnetism that no one can resist.”

Akaashi’s dead-eyed stare was disbelieving. And rightly so, considering the only date Kuroo had gone on recently had ended before it could get interesting because apparently Kuroo just wasn’t as “into it” as the other person wanted him to be. It hadn’t taken a lot of thinking to figure out why, especially when he came home that night and heard the distant moans coming from Bokuto’s room.

“I think,” Akaashi said slowly, deliberately, pulling Kuroo from his trance, “you _are_ avoiding me. And you’ve been acting strangely around Bokuto-san as well. And these extra shifts and so-called dates have given you an excuse to continue avoiding me and acting strangely around Bokuto-san.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to retort, but it suddenly went dry when Akaashi leaned in closer, his face so close that Kuroo could feel his breath. Kuroo couldn’t stop himself from pulling away this time. Akaashi’s expression of frustration shifted to one of victory.

“You can argue all you want,” Akaashi continued. “But I know I’m right. And I’m going to figure out why.”

Inherently terrifying though Akaashi’s threat was, Kuroo couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief. He hadn’t given the whole game away, at least. All they knew was that he was acting strange. His growing attraction toward his best friend and best friend’s boyfriend had gone unnoticed thus far. It was the bleakest of silver linings. But at this point, Kuroo would take it.

The ding of the bell above the front door finally made Akaashi back away. Kuroo thanked every possible god for the crabby old man waddling toward the counter. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take those piercing eyes trying to read his every thought.

“Welcome,” Kuroo said, his attention shifting solely to the wrinkly old man approaching him.

“Cigarettes,” the man barked.

Kuroo ducked beneath the counter, fishing around for the old man’s favorite brand. He traded the old man for a handful of coins and dropped them into the register, pulling out some change to pass back. But unfortunately, the money didn’t make it back into the old man’s hand. It slipped easily from Kuroo’s fingers and clattered noisily onto the counter.

All because he chanced a glance at Akaashi, who was bent over, perusing the magazine rack.

Kuroo couldn’t even hear the old man cursing at him. There was a rushing sound in his ears, blood pounding in his head. The sound of the change on the counter and the old man yelling made Akaashi jump, and he glanced over his shoulder at the commotion, still bent at the waist.

The sight was one Kuroo would never be able to forget. It was one that had been haunting his fantasies for weeks now—Akaashi bent over, ass in the air, glancing back at Kuroo with that lidded gaze. The only thing missing was the plea for more.

Kuroo was immediately hard again, and wishing he could disappear into thin air.

Slowly, Akaashi straightened up, eyes still on Kuroo. His brows were drawn together as he stared hard. He was thinking, clearly, watching Kuroo with the intensity of a bird of prey. Kuroo went into full panic mode. He forced himself to look away again, helping the shouting old man with his change, passing him a free lighter to make up for the trouble.

When the old man hobbled away, Kuroo disappeared behind the counter again. He wasn’t looking for anything this time. More like plotting his escape. Maybe he could crawl to freedom. But the only way out was through the front door, and that would mean crawling right past Akaashi. Counterproductive, and he’d look like even more of a weirdo. There was always the option of crawling into the back room too, but then he’d have to wait until Akaashi left. And Akaashi would _know_ Kuroo was still there just watching from a distance—which definitely wouldn’t help with the whole “acting weird” thing.

Slowly, he peeked over the top of the counter. And of course Akaashi was still watching him. Trying to look a little less insane, Kuroo grabbed a rag and stood back up, acting like it had been his plan all along to wipe the counter down. His hands were shaking, but at least they were moving. He bent his knees a bit to make sure his problem below the belt was well hidden behind the counter.

“Kuroo-san, do…” Akaashi trailed off.

Kuroo still didn’t look at him. Looking was dangerous. He was much safer just wiping down the counter and pretending there was something remarkably interesting about the dingy wood grain.

Akaashi made a sudden noise, something that sounded like an exhale, an “Ohhhh…” Well Kuroo had to look up now. And unfortunately, the look on Akaashi’s face had changed from mild scrutiny to understanding.

Well, fuck.

Akaashi didn’t say anything else, just turned on his heel and strode out the front door of the convenience store. Kuroo wanted to call after him, but he couldn’t form words. And even if he did call after Akaashi, what was he going to say? He had no plan except for a growing desire to leave the country. And how was he going to go back to that apartment? Whatever Akaashi had figured out based on that knowing look, he would probably be telling Bokuto about it. Oh god, they’d probably both be waiting for him on the couch. The classic reading angry under a lamp, like parents waiting for a kid after curfew.

But it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. Kenma was across the country, and it was too late to cross the entirety of Tokyo to get back to his parent’s house. He didn’t know anyone else nearby close enough to crash on their couches. He really didn’t have any other options.

So, when his reliever came by at 10:00, Kuroo slowly trudged his way back toward the apartment. The walk always felt so long after a seemingly endless shift, but tonight he was outside the apartment in record time despite dragging his heels the entire way. He took a few deep breaths as he stood outside the apartment door. Listening hard, he couldn’t hear any sound from inside. The tv wasn’t on, so either they weren’t in the living room or they were and they were waiting for him in absolute silence. God, that would be Kuroo’s waking nightmare. The only thing worse would be if he were naked. He had to check just to make sure he was still clothed, pinched himself to make sure he was awake.

The key scraped loudly in the lock, and it felt like every single one of his footsteps over the threshold managed to hit a squeaky floorboard—which was why he was surprised to see the living room dark and, more importantly, empty.

Maybe he finally had a stroke of luck. Maybe Akaashi had met up with Bokuto somewhere else to tell him what a pervert Kuroo was. His best bet was to disappear into his room like the hermit he had become and hope they would just ignore him for the time being. Abandoning his shoes at the door, Kuroo padded through the living room and down the hallway.

But when he heard a noise, he froze. Not just a noise. A moan.

And what was worse, the door to Bokuto’s room was ajar. Kuroo had to pass by that room to get to his own. There were no lights on, not in the room or in the hall. If he was immensely careful, he might be able to get there without making a sound.

But then there was another moan. And a grunt. And then…

_“Fuck, Kaash, that feels really good…”_

Kuroo’s legs were moving, alright. But they weren’t carrying him toward his own door. Instead, he tiptoed a little closer to the open door, listening harder. There was the sound of bedsprings, though definitely not loud enough for them both to be on the bed. And of course, there were Bokuto’s choked grunts and occasional moans. Kuroo really needed to go back to his room…

But of course, he leaned forward to look into Bokuto’s bedroom instead.

And immediately, he wished he hadn’t.

Bokuto was sitting on his bed, pants and boxers around his ankles. His legs were spread to accommodate for Akaashi, who was on his knees, his lips wrapped around Bokuto’s cock. One hand was spread across Bokuto’s thigh, the other hidden between Bokuto’s legs, probably the source of all those groans. What exactly that hand was doing, Kuroo could only guess. At this angle, he couldn’t see exactly what Akaashi was doing. But this view was more than enough to have his soldier standing at full attention once more.

Bokuto shifted, the springs creaking loudly beneath him. He couldn’t seem to get comfortable. But by the looks of it, Akaashi had no intention of stopping, and in fact seemed to be bobbing his head even faster.

A particularly loud moan ripped from Bokuto’s throat as he bent over Akaashi, thick fingers tangling in the messy black hair. “Akaashi,” he groaned. “Akaashi, fuck, that’s... That’s good. Use your tongue again, on the bottom, like you— _fuck,_ yeah, that’s good…”

Kuroo’s hand was moving on its own, palming himself over the front of his jeans. He was achingly hard as he watched the scene play out before him. This was a risky game he was playing. All it would take would be Bokuto leaning back just a little bit or Akaashi turning his head just right, and Kuroo would be spotted. And still, the threat of getting caught didn’t stop him from sliding his hand beneath the waistband of his jeans, past the elastic of his boxers. He had to bite back a moan as his fingers wrapped around his cock. The wetness dripping from the tip was embarrassing even by his standards, making a slick mess in his underwear. But he couldn’t find it in him to care.

He matched the pace of his hand with that of Akaashi’s head bobbing up and down Bokuto’s cock. Each time Bokuto let loose another moan, Kuroo had to fight the urge to moan back. Bokuto looked so blissed out, he probably wouldn’t even have noticed if Kuroo did happen to slip up. But Akaashi definitely would.

So, Kuroo fought every instinct in his body and focused on the details instead—the flex of Bokuto’s biceps as tugged hard at Akaashi’s hair, Akaashi’s intermittent hums of satisfaction, the way his fingers curled around Bokuto’s thigh. Kuroo couldn’t figure out whom to focus on. Each time he tried to lose himself in one of them, the other would steal his attention. But one thing was for certain: Kuroo wasn’t going to last much longer.

Without warning, Akaashi popped off Bokuto’s cock, lips making a wet smacking sound as he tipped his head back. There was a string of saliva still connecting him, breaking away and falling against Akaashi’s chin. His lips were replaced with his hand, fingers wrapping around Bokuto’s shaft and stroking much faster than before.

Bokuto’s hips jumped off the mattress at the sudden change in tempo. “Kaash, slow down,” he breathed. “I’m not gonna make it if you keep—“

“It’s okay,” Akaashi cut him off. “You can cum. Do you want to cum on my face?”

Bokuto groaned loudly as he canted his hips upward once more. His hand fisted in the sheets hard enough to rip it. “Can I?” he asked shakily. “Can I… Mess you up?”

“Yes,” Akaashi purred. “Mess me up.”

Kuroo had to clamp his free hand around his mouth to keep from grunting. The hand around his own cock worked in time with Akaashi’s. He watched Bokuto’s thick fingers disappear into Akaashi’s curls again, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging. Akaashi’s head tipped back at his command.

“Go ahead… Cum.”

The silken purr of Akaashi’s voice was all Kuroo needed, his teeth tearing into the flesh of his hand as he came. Judging by the sound of Bokuto’s grunts, he was cumming too. Kuroo rode out the high. He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes, opening them to see just what face Bokuto made when he orgasmed—a recent thought that had been plaguing him.

But it wasn’t Bokuto he found himself staring it. It was Akaashi.

Because Akaashi was staring right back at him.

There were a few thin streaks of cum on Akaashi’s cheek, swiped away by his nimble fingers as he stared, rooting Kuroo to the spot where he stood. Maybe if he didn’t move at all, time would remain frozen and he’d just die here without anyone ever bringing this up. He could feel cooling cum slipping between his fingers and dripping down his palm. It was grotesque. And still, he didn’t move.

At least not until Bokuto turned his head, following Akaashi’s pointed stare, his gaze landing squarely on Kuroo.

And in a split second, Kuroo lurched forward, darting toward his bedroom and throwing the door open. Too bad for him he was such a slob. He tripped over a shirt just inside the doorway and tumbled forward, skidding into the carpet with an unfortunate bang. “Mother fucker,” he hissed, feeling the sting of a rug burn on his forearms.

“In a hurry?”

It was a voice Kuroo hoped he would be able to avoid for the rest of his life, but lady luck wasn’t that kind to him. How had Akaashi gotten here so quickly? And so quietly? He’d even avoided the creaky floorboard between the rooms.

Kuroo couldn’t look at him. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said hurriedly as he staggered to his feet. “The sounds were kind of, uh… Yeah, sorry, for uh, staring.”

“You were doing a bit more than just staring.”

Though he knew it was the god’s honest truth, the words still made Kuroo cringe. He should have known his best efforts to play it off would be unsuccessful. Why did he even bother? It’s not like he’d been discrete about it. And he couldn’t just stand here staring at his messy bed forever—Akaashi definitely wasn’t going to let this go. Slowly, Kuroo turned to face his demise.

Akaashi should have looked mad, pissed off that Kuroo had been jerking off while watching them in their most intimate moment. He should’ve been telling Kuroo to get out and never come back.

So why was he smiling?

“I’m… sorry,” Kuroo murmured pathetically, feeling like he was getting smaller and smaller the longer Akaashi stared.

If the smiling wasn’t terrifying enough, the sound of laughter bubbling past Akaashi’s lips was enough to make Kuroo’s knees shake. Was he about to be murdered?

“Why are you sorry?” Akaashi asked curiously, resting a hand on his hip. “You proved me right.”

“W-what?”

“How about you clean yourself up,” Akaashi said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Kuroo’s crotch. “And then come to Bokuto-san’s room so we can talk.”

He left no room for argument as he turned and walked away, this time not bothering to avoid the squeaky floorboard. If Kuroo strained hard, he could hear the low hum of conversation—alternating between Akaashi’s cool tone and Bokuto’s gravelly whisper. They were absolutely talking about him. And now, he had no other options. He was fucked.

So, with the slowness of a man facing his execution, Kuroo changed out of his messed jeans and boxers into a relatively clean pair of sweatpants, then trudged out his door and the short distance down the hallway. This was it. End of the line. He’d probably be homeless in about fifteen minutes. And how was he going to explain this to his parents? Or Kenma? _I got kicked out of my apartment because I want to fuck the other people living there and am too gross to keep that thought to myself._

Nice. Real nice.

With one final deep breath, Kuroo stepped into Bokuto’s bedroom. The only light on was the lamp near the bed, upon which both Bokuto (now thankfully wearing pants) and Akaashi sat looking intimidating. Their faces were cast in shadow from the mood lighting. Kuroo couldn’t read their expressions—was it intentional? Maybe.

“So… Uh… What’s up?” Kuroo asked tentatively, his persistent need to play it cool kicking in on its own.

Bokuto fidgeted in place, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. Kuroo caught a glimpse of his face in the dim lighting. He looked… Anxious? Antsy? Excited? God, it was too hard to tell in the dark. But whatever it was, it looked like the opposite of pissed off.

Next to him, Akaashi crossed his arms over his chest, earning Kuroo’s full attention. He looked so intimidating, staring Kuroo down with that intense gaze. And still, he was so, so hot. Kuroo wanted to melt into the floor.

“It seems we have something to discuss,” Akaashi said pointedly.

There it was. The Tone. The “we’d like you to pack you bags as soon as possible” tone. Kuroo would have given anything for Akaashi to look away, and Bokuto too. He shuffled from one foot to the other. “It’s fine, no need,” he replied. “I’ll get out of your hair. You, uh, you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll be gone by the end of the night.”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, but blissfully brief as Bokuto surged to his feet. “Gone?!” he squawked. “Where are you going?”

“Uh… Anywhere but here, I assumed,” Kuroo said.

“Why?” Bokuto asked.

“Perhaps before jumping to conclusions, you might let us speak our peace,” Akaashi suggested, still looking cool and collected despite the sudden calamity.

If that was meant to make him feel better, it definitely had the opposite effect. The only logical conclusion in Kuroo’s mind was for them to be upset. This was unprecedented, unchartered territory. He could feel himself wanting to run again.

“I… I guess,” Kuroo murmured.

Akaashi and Bokuto shared a knowing glance, to which Bokuto nodded eagerly. Then, Akaashi was looking at Kuroo again.

“We were just wondering,” Akaashi said slowly, “if perhaps you’d like to do a little more than stare.”

Kuroo felt his mouth go dry. “What?” he asked lamely.

“Would you like to join us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come yell at me about these nerds on [Tumblr](http://thewiselearnfromhistory.tumblr.com)!


End file.
